Dean's Job
by winchester1978
Summary: Supplies are running low in the Winchester household. How will young Dean handle it with his father missing?


March 1992

The pot of chicken noodle soup was sending a thin layer of steam into the air as Dean silently stirred. Sam needed to eat and finish his homework. It wouldn't do for the genius to fall behind in his schoolwork. Sam was a straight A student, they moved around so much that keeping his grades up was a major achievement.

Dean was worried; dad should have been back six days ago. There had not been a phone call from him or Uncle Bobby. Sammy was constantly asking when dad was going to be home, Dean was tired of not knowing what to tell him. There was very little food in the cabinets, what little there was he was giving to Sammy. It was getting hard to keep himself awake in class and find the energy to do his homework at night.

"Sam, come on to the table and eat your dinner," Dean called. There was the sound of hurried footsteps as Sam rushed into the kitchen. Dean put the bowl of soup in front of Sam and poured a glass of milk for him.

"I'm tired of soup, are there any Lucky Charms left?" Sam whined.

"No, you finished the last of them this morning. This is all we have, so eat up," Dean told him. Filling the sink with soapy water and putting the pot in he said, "Now hurry up. You need to finish your homework and take a bath tonight before bed." Dean walked out of the kitchen and headed into the bathroom, he wanted to take a shower before Sam finished eating. It wasn't likely to happen, but he might need some help with his homework.

Three hours later Dean was walking through the apartment checking salt lines and locking the doors and windows. Another day with no word from dad had passed. A few more days and there would be nothing to give Sammy to eat; they would have to call Uncle Bobby by the end of the week if dad did not show up. Tears of frustration, worry, and anger threatened but Dean pushed them down and went to bed. There is nothing that he can do about his dad at the moment. Maybe he will turn up sometime during the night. Tiredly, Dean slouched into the bedroom and crawled into bed, too tired to handle any more responsibility.

It was hard to get up the next morning, all Dean wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. Days of little food and sleepless nights were taking a toll on his body. The energy he needed to keep going was quickly waning. Drawing a breath, Dean tried to prepare himself for the day ahead. He pushed back the covers and crawled out of bed. The room spun when he stood up. Closing his eyes, Dean breathed slowly. Once his vision cleared he walked out of the room to the bathroom.

Sam was up by the time Dean was finished brushing his teeth. He was always in such a rush to get to school. Walking into the kitchen Dean fixed Sammy a glass of milk and dry toast. "Sammy, come and eat while I get dressed. We have to leave in just a few minutes."

The walk to school was quiet, each of the boys concerned with their own thoughts. Sammy had a math test that day and Dean was concerned with what to fix Sammy for dinner that night and wondering if their father was alright. At the doors to the elementary school Dean reached into his backpack. "Sam, here is your lunch." Pulling out a brown lunch sack he handed it to Sam.

Sam looked at Dean, "Where is your lunch, Dean?"

Dean was surprised at his brother's question. He had tried to hide the fact that they were running out of food. Sammy was more observant than he realized.

"I've got mine in my bag, geek boy. Get to class, Sam. You don't want to be late. I will meet you at the usual spot after school, okay?" Dean asked.

"Alright, jerk."

Dean watched Sam walk to his classroom and then turned to head into his own school. There was no time for pity parties, have to get through the day.

Walking into the apartment that afternoon Dean sent Sammy off to watch tv while he started on his homework. _Got to get this done, I have to fix Sammy dinner. _Dean's thoughts were filled with what had to be done before he could get some rest. Fifteen minutes later Dean shoved his books away from him. The words kept blurring on the page, he could not even see what he was doing.

"Dean, when is dad coming home?" he had not heard Sam come into the room. Dean looked at Sam, too tired to put on a mask.

"I don't know Sam. He hasn't called yet."

"What are we going to do if he never comes back? Who will take care of us?" Sam was quick to catch on to how scared his brother was.

"Don't worry, Sam. I will take care of you. Besides, dad will be home soon," Dean said. "We just have to go to school and be patient a little while longer."

"But who will take care of you?" Sam asked quietly.

"Don't worry about that. I can take care of myself. Go get your homework and bring it in here. I will fix your dinner," Dean told him.

Sam stared at him, "Dean, when are you going to eat something?"

"I will eat later, now go on. Get your homework." Dean started packing up his books. He would get on his homework after he got Sammy into bed.

John crept into the small one bedroom apartment that was home for him and the boys while he hunted a spirit nearby. He should have been home a week ago; he was stuck without a phone to check in with the boys. John was certain that Dean, who was fourteen years old now, could hold down the fort and take care of Sammy in his absence. Luckily, this job was finished so there is nothing to keep him away from the boys for now. John placed his duffel bag on the coffee table and was startled to find Dean sleeping on the couch, a school book and notepad spilled onto the floor. John was not surprised to find him there; the kid always took his job of protecting Sammy too seriously.

Kneeling down beside the couch he gently shook Dean's shoulders. "Dean, time to get to bed," he whispered. Dean drew a breath and fluttered his eyes open.

"Dad, when did you get here?" he asked, half asleep.

"Just a few minutes ago. Come on, it's late. Let's get you to bed," John answered. He stood up and moved away from the couch to give Dean room to get up. John followed Dean as he staggered down the hallway into the bedroom. Dean crawled onto the bed and was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Sammy woke John the next morning when he came running into the living room.

"Daddy, you're home! I missed you," the ten year old shouted.

"Hey, buddy! How was school while I was gone?" John asked. Sam crawled into John's lap and gave him a hug.

"School was alright. The kids at this school are doing things that I already did. It's been kinda boring," Sam said excitedly.

"That's my boy. You are so smart. Where's your brother?" John asked. Just then Dean called from the kitchen. "Sam, come and eat your breakfast. I need to get dressed so we can get to school."

"You better get going. You only have a few minutes."

"Okay, daddy," Sammy ran off to the kitchen.

John watched Dean walk into the bedroom and come out a few minutes later with his backpack. He picked up his notepad and book from the coffee table and head to the door. "Come on Sam, we're going to be late." Sammy came running out of the kitchen and grabbed his backpack from beside the door. "Bye dad. See you after school."

John noticed that Dean did not even look at him. The kid could not get out of the apartment fast enough. Dean cannot stand school, something must be up. John walked into the kitchen and looked around. He noticed one plate and one glass in the sink. Opening the cabinets and the refrigerator John took stock of how little there was. There was a box of cereal with a few flakes at the bottom, a jar of peanut butter, a few slices of bread, and a tiny bit of milk.

"Damn it, John. You gotta do better than this," he muttered to himself. Quickly John ran into the living room and grabbed his keys off the coffee table. Running out of the apartment he made it to the lobby where he caught up with Dean and Sam.

"Boys, come on. We are going to breakfast."

Sam looked at him, "What about school, dad?"

"You can miss one day, son. You won't fall behind. Besides, we need to spend some time with each other." Leading the boys outside to the car, John put his arm around Dean.

"Dean, I am sorry. I did not mean to put you in that situation. You did good, but it will not happen again."

"It's not your fault dad. I know that you had important things going on," Dean told him. "You do not have to apologize for protecting people."

"But," his dad cut in, "my number one job is to take care of you and your brother. When I let supplies run so low and do not leave you the money to buy more, then, I am not doing my job. I promise you; that will never happen again. Now, come on let's go get some real food in you."


End file.
